Chapter 28
From the raised place of honor overlooking the beach, the entire banquet could be seen beneath the moonlight.
Beyond the glow of the bonfires, the Empress watched the liveliest gathering near the edge of the gardens with narrowed eyes.
Truthfully, she wanted to be down there herself, drinking beside Ando.
Instead, Kiba, Ko, and Tien remained firmly around her, leaving her no choice but to continue playing the role of the Empress.
“That is a fine lieutenant,” she remarked at length. “Didst thou place him beside thy brother?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Antonius replied. “Theodoros has served at my side since childhood. We entered a knightly company together as pages.”
The Empress rested her cheek lightly against one hand.
“He seems far too valuable a piece on the board to leave as second-in-command of a single unit. If he served at thy side from childhood, should he not stand now as thy own lieutenant?”
Antonius looked faintly surprised to hear the truth guessed so easily.
“You are most perceptive, Your Majesty,”he acknowledged with a slight bow of the head. “When I assumed command of the Royal Guard, I appointed him my adjutant. Later, after transferring Andri from a provincial knightly company into the Royal Guard, I placed him in command of the First Unit and entrusted Theodoros with guiding him.”
“A demotion on paper, then.”
“I am afraid so, Your Majesty.”
“And he accepted it.”
Antonius nodded once.
The Empress slowly lifted her cup and tasted the wine.
“Then thou must truly be a lord worth following. Imresia is fortunate indeed to have gained such a future king.”
“You honor me beyond my merit, Your Majesty.”
The exchange remained perfectly cordial.
And yet beneath the smoothness of every word, neither side left the slightest opening.
The Empress studied Antonius for a long moment before finally letting her gaze drift back toward the beach—to Andri, standing at the center of the laughter.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Thy brother strives tirelessly to prove himself useful to thee as well.”
For a moment, the sound of the waves seemed to rise louder against the shore.
Without lifting his gaze, Antonius answered calmly.
“My own failings burdened him with many long and painful years. Even so… he has served me faithfully.”
Something beneath the words drew a low laugh from the Empress’s throat.
“If thy brother desired it, we would welcome him gladly as one of our own people.”
Antonius bowed his head at once.
“Your Majesty’s generosity humbles me beyond words. If such a path is truly what my brother desires, I would not deny him that path.”
His answer came smoothly. Naturally. There was not a single lie within it.
And yet the Empress understood its true meaning perfectly well.
She knew Ando had sworn his loyalty to Antonius. She knew his deepest wish was to return to Imresia and serve at his brother’s side.
And Antonius knew it too.
He was utterly certain Andri would never choose to remain in Tatsuno.
“What a dangerous strategist thou art.”
The Empress clicked her tongue openly, a dangerous smile touching the edge of her lips.
“Very well. I shall pay my respects to the mother who gave thee such a mind.”
The air shifted ever so slightly.
Then, as though merely making idle conversation, the Empress spoke again.
“As for thy mother… when thy brother was born, did he hatch from an egg?”
“I am afraid not, Your Majesty,” Antonius answered after the briefest pause. “He was not hatched from an egg, but born as an infant. Yet unlike any ordinary human child, he bore scales and a tail.”
The Empress’s fingertip traced slowly along the rim of her cup.
“And during the pregnancy? Did thy mother suffer any unusual affliction?”
“Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty. I remember her smiling gently whenever she drew my hand to her stomach.”
There had been nine years between Antonius and Andri.
As far back as he could remember, the palace had once buzzed with excitement over whether the queen would bear a second prince or perhaps the kingdom’s first princess.
Slowly, the memory returned to him.
One day, for reasons long forgotten, young Antonius had begged his nurse to take him to see his mother.
Even princes were not permitted to burst carelessly into the queen’s chambers. His nurse had knocked first, and one of the queen’s ladies had appeared at the door.
Knowing well that the queen would never refuse her son, the attendants had brought Antonius into the receiving chamber while formal permission was sought.
Moments later he had been invited farther inside.
Delighted, he had slipped free from his nurse’s hand and rushed ahead—only to find his mother seated calmly with tea at her side, sorting through a small jewel box.
Antonius had never cared much for jewelry.
But the previous day his tutor had shown him an illustrated book of fish.
And for some reason, one memory remained strangely vivid even now:
a flat ornament his mother had lifted from the box that had reminded him of a fish scale.
“When Andri grew somewhat older,” Antonius said slowly, “I remember thinking once that his scales resembled the thing Mother held that day.”
He lowered his eyes slightly.
“Looking back… I cannot help but wonder whether it might itself have been a Dracotyrannus scale.”
“And the jewel box?”
“I regret that I cannot offer it to Your Majesty. None of my mother’s belongings were preserved. I was told they were all destroyed after her execution.”
At that, the Empress’s expression changed.
Far below them, the waves crashed softly against the shore.
“Thou too didst lose thy mother.”
For the first time that evening, genuine sympathy touched her voice.
“Forgive my rudeness. May her soul know peace.”
The kindness caught Antonius off guard.
For a brief instant, surprise crossed his face.
Then he lowered his head deeply.
“Your Majesty’s condolences do her memory great honor.”
The Empress merely glanced aside without answering.
After a moment, Antonius leaned slightly closer and lowered his voice.
“Your Majesty. I fear my recollections may offer little of practical use. Yet there is one matter I would place before you… should it be of any interest to Your Majesty.”
“I permit it. Speak.”
At those words, the air tightened.
Antonius’s lips moved softly.
And the moment the Empress heard what he said—
lightning flashed through her eyes.
Behind her, Kiba’s brow furrowed. Master Ko and Tien both drew deeper breaths.
Under moonlight and firelight alike, a great wave crashed upon the shore.
The tide had begun to rise.
